


Jormungand's tales

by Gentrychild



Category: Vikings (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Ivar and Heahmund are killers, Ivar is jealous, Jormungand is the name of Ivar's organization, M/M, Slice of Life, Subtle reincarnation AU, Writer fueled by spite, private military, sniper Heahmund
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-06
Updated: 2018-11-08
Packaged: 2019-03-27 22:48:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 7,539
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13890774
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gentrychild/pseuds/Gentrychild
Summary: A collection of moments between Ivar and Heahmund, various attempts at humor and feelings.Set after the fic named Dementia, but you don't need to read it to understand. It's a modern setting, Ivar and Heahmund are together, and they are utterly ridiculous and think too much.





	1. Chapter 1

 

 

Ivar had many flaws, be it a habit to throw something sharp when something angered him to an almost supernatural ability to lure him to bed every time Heahmund passed near his bedroom. But it wasn't the worse, as Heahmund was reminded on this fine morning.

Ivar's arms, incredibly muscled because of the obligatory work out he had to do everyday, had seized Heahmund in his sleep. Some people were cuddlers while the youngest of the Ragnarsons had certainly been an octopus in another life.

Heahmund patted Ivar's beautiful muscled back. The dragon in human form leaned into the touch before cuddling closer, which would have been cute if two hundred pounds weren't keeping Heahmund from standing up. He was awake, of course. Neither of them could deeply fall asleep, especially when someone was paying attention to them. It was a habit fighters like them had to pick and war was never too far away.

Heahmund tried to get up. Ivar wrestled him into the bed.

"What's the rush?" Ivar asked, his lips moving on Heahmund's skin.

"Work. I have a protection job two states from here."

"Quit on them and come work exclusively for me."

It was said like a joke, but Ivar was deadly serious. Heahmund ignored him and tried to escape. Ivar found his inner wrestler and perfectly immobilized him.

"If you think I won't stab you because you're pretty..." Heahmund growled.

"And how will you do that? You gave me your most precious blade," Ivar teased. Before suddenly getting deadly serious. "Who is this body you're supposed to guard?"

"You don't know the client."

"The client? So this is a woman."

Ivar's expression triggered an adrenaline rush in Heahmund, and the fact he was absolutely right didn't help. The more time he spent with Ivar, the better he became to see his half-truths.

Unfortunately, freezing in front of a predator was exactly something one should never do.

"Don't tell me she is blonde," Ivar groaned.

"No, some kind of red."

"Strawberry blond is still blonde!"

This conversation was surrealist, confirming once again what Heahmund knew. This man was insane.

Ivar put a stop to the making of his escape plan by pressing his lips to his. The kiss was brutal, a matter.of possessiveness and teeth when Heahmund dared not to react immediately. Ivar grabbed Heahmund's wrists, fingers digging into the flesh as he straddled him, something akin to anger in those beautiful eyes of him. Passion would have been a better world, but it didn't quite describe how ardent this was.

_And thrilling._

Heahmund hummed into the kiss, submitting to the unstoppable force that was Ivar. Being so close to someone so alive, whose emotions were so strong Heahmund could feel them in his bones, was simply thrilling. Ivar had made good on his promise and Heahmund had never been bored since he had agreed to go back with him.

Ivar was still glaring at him as he stopped kissing, his mouth finding Heahmund's torso. He bit the skin, hard, and started sucking on the wound, one of many. Neither of them were careful with the other. Neither of them wished the other to do so.

"You think you can change your mind and go with someone else?" Ivar growled.

"It's work."

"You give them your strength. You give them this bloodlust you only reveal to a few chosen ones. Why should I be happy about anyone else seeing your true nature and coveting it for themselves ?"

Heahmund flinched as Ivar licked one of the bruises. He had not expected something so soft while it had been so obvious at the same time. Ivar could have been screaming 'mine' and not be louder than at this moment.

The yes was on Heahmund's tongue.

"Come work for me, Heahmund. Only for me."

He had finally moved. Heahmund reversed the hold and Ivar could do nothing as he was flipped around, into the mattress. He looked at Heahmund, surprise making him even more adorable than usual, like a startled tiger.

"Let me make things clear, Ragnarson. _You_ didn't catch me. I let you find me and trapped you with me."

"You were such a fine bait..." Ivar mocked.

"I know."

Ivar tried to push Heahmund off him but the sniper was expecting it. He pressed into the perfect body, his lips finding Ivar's, his knee slowly pushing Ivar's legs apart. The Ragnarson almost purred under the touch, grinning into the kiss. And as he was finally distracted enough not to wrestle him again, Heahmund jumped out of the bed and out of reach.

Ivar didn't get mad like Heahmund was expecting. Ivar was an explosion waiting to happen, that was what made him so interesting. He could succumb to the bloodlust, or use the anger inhabiting him to fuel his schemes.

But instead, Ivar was simply looking at him, eyes wide, completely still like a startled cat. Heahmund shamelessly took advantage of it, recovering the various clothes on the floor and started to get dressed, though he abandoned the shirt. All the buttons were missing in action.

Ivar found his voice again: "What do you think you are doing?"

"Leaving for work. I don't like to be late."

"Come. Back. Now."

Kings and killers had probably flinched under this tone, but Heahmund was used to Ivar's intensity. He actually liked it, cherishing the moments where he could disturb his balance. Which probably said a lot about his sanity.

"I will be back in a few days."

And he took a sprint because one of the only advantages he had against Ivar was his mobility. Several curses followed, such as "Don't you dare!", "Bishop!", and "Go cheat on me with another company! See if I care!"

Heahmund didn't stop running until he was in the kitchen. Ubbe was at the table, his cup of coffee forgotten in his hands as he was watching in the direction of Ivar's quarters. He seemed scared.

"You're leaving?" he managed to ask.

Heahmund nodded as he was tying his shoelaces and finished dressing up.

"Let me say that again. You're leaving us Ivar LIKE THIS???"

Heahmund fled before the rest of the Ragnarson clan tackled him to appease the leader of the pack.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments always make me smile! Please, share your thoughts!


	2. Chapter 2

 

 

Ivar walked into the apartment, one of many, owned by Jormungand. Someone had had access to it last night, and since none of his men needed it, it had to be Heahmund.

Ivar wasn't mad that he had used it. That was why he had given the codes to him. What pissed him off was that Ivar's house, room, and bed were thirty minutes away and if Heahmund needed a place to rest, it should have been next to Ivar.

Next time the sniper went near his room, he would chain him to the bed until his needs for working on freelance passed. Ivar had been haunted for some time by this image of a metal collar circling the elegant throat, and he was sure it would suit him as much as Heahmund would hate it.

Heahmund was complicated. Complicated as himself, but Ivar could deal with this. The problem was that Ivar hated not to have him near him. He never had such a bond with anyone, and for the first time in his life, he was worried about pushing someone away. People arrived and left. Family was bound by blood and duty. Heahmund was neither and so easy to lose.

The click of a gun greeted him. Heahmund sat on a bed, holding a Glock. His blue eyes were burning, hot iron instead of cold steel. Unfocused.

Heahmund slowly lowered the gun, storing it away on the little table next to him. Had Ivar finally managed to surprise Heahmund? What could have tired him out so much? Ivar took a look around. If he found a woman here, he would throw them both out the window, then burn the sheets. And the bed. And probably the apartment. Better safe than sorry.

Heahmund watched him take a look, his expression fond: "Good morning to you too, Ivar."

"What are you doing here?" Ivar asked after making sure no blond women was nearby.

"Sleeping"

Unbearable man.

Something was wrong. Heahmund was too relaxed, too peaceful. He should have recognized Ivar's footsteps as he entered, and he had had the time to shoot him three times but waited to be sure.

Ivar walked to the bed and dropped on him. Heahmund's movements were sluggish, so it wasn't difficult to win this match. Though to be fair, Heahmund"s sluggish movements were worth Ubbe's best, but Ivar didn't see the point of being fair with this insufferable man.

Especially when he saw the bandage tainted by a red point near his hipbone.

Red fury took him. Something violent awakened with the brutality of a devil jumping out of his box, and his fingers clenched on the emptiness, his only movement, the one that betrayed how he needed to break something with his bare hands.

Heahmund was hurt. _A bullet wound, not dangerous as long as he avoids infection_ , whispered some rational thought. It was nothing next to the roaring knowledge someone had hurt what was his.

"What happened?" he managed to say.

He wanted to hurt something. He desperately wanted to destroy something, anything.

"My Kevlar gave out. At the most unfortunate moment, I must say."

"I'm so glad you find that funny," Ivar managed to say between his gritted teeth.

"Codeine," Heahmund explained as he leaned back on the bed.

He was good at hiding it, but he was exhausted. Why not return to Jormungand? They had medics and a militia to keep any injured safe the time they healed.

Hiding here meant Heahmund didn't trust them. It wasn't surprising. Heahmund trusted no one, not since Curtana. The company he had spent his life working for had betrayed him because the president felt threatened by his talents and popularity with the mercenaries.

Ivar's fingers touched Heahmund's skin, slowly, carefully. He had never seen him like this, so unguarded because of the drug in his system, and there was something about seeing him without his mask... It felt like cheating.

For a moment, Ivar thought he would be ripped apart by the violent urges of crushing, cutting, killing anything and anyone that dared to hurt what was his, and the utter softness that was spreading through him as he was near the vulnerable warrior.

"What do you need?" he finally managed to say.

He would slap the distrust out of him as soon as he was healed. Ivar believed in fighting chance when Heahmund was concerned.

Heahmund hesitated.

"Anything." Ivar promised.

"I can't rest when I am injured and there are people around me," Heahmund finally admitted.

Ivar understood. He didn't like it, but he understood how nervewrecking it could be to be powerless in front of witnesses, even when they meant you no harm.

_Even then, you could never be sure._

He started to transfer his weight to get up and leave.

"So," Heamund continued without even noticing what Ivar was doing, "could you... maybe... stay and stand guard?"

Ivar stopped what he was doing and stared. This man... He had no word.

Ivar sat next to him. Heahmund immediately relaxed, the hint of a smile on his stoic face.

"Heahmund? If you can't sleep when someone is close, won't my presence bother you?"

Heahmund Bishop didn't even open his eyes. His fingers were clutching the fabric of Ivar's tee-shirt as he was falling deeper and deeper into the darkness.

"You're not everyone, Ivar," he simply said.

Heahmund quickly fell asleep, while Ivar was smiling. Watching over what was his.

 

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: A jealous Heahmund.

 

Ivar was haunted by some images, little thoughts that couldn't possibly have happened but who felt so real he could suddenly be at two places at the same time.

_Heahmund, a metal collar around his neck, looking at him with pure defiance in his eyes. Bound, restrained, but it wasn't enough to breach this pride of his. Even then, he was testing the bind by subtly moving his head, testing the collar. He would hide it, but the indignity would eat at him, anger building and keeping him strong._

_For a time._

_Ivar would leave him no respite. Heahmund would not break, but he could be tired out, slowly, constantly, until the mask he showed to the world was finally eroded._

The real Heahmund, in front of him in the plane, gave him a sharp look and Ivar fully came back to reality.

"What are you thinking about ?" his bodyguard asked.

"Nothing. Except that we didn't have much time to ourselves this month."

"I noticed." He didn't bother hiding his irritation.

Heahmund was always professional during a job. There was no warmth, no trace he was anything that he was anything than an efficient agent. It would have been boring without the glimpses of Heahmund's true nature behind his carefully crafted persona. The way he was pretending to be calm and patient but was actually coiled and ready to react, even among friends. How he looked at the world, taking note of everything and tracking everyone's movement while pretending not to care.

Ivar sensed Freydis approach just as she touched his shoulder, his secretary strangely silent for someone with no training, which posed problems when she sneaked behind Ivar. He wisely didn't break her fingers by reflex, and he let her walk him through the files of his potential customers. There was power in information, and Ivar had to know every detail, every dark secret, every advantages he could obtain so he could give them exactly what they wanted. Time would pass and they would ask for him again, and one day, Ivar would need them and at that moment, they would realize he knew everything about them.

And nothing would be refused.

Freydis get her hand away as if Ivar's contact had burned her, sheepishly taking a step back and though Ivar immediately turned his head towards Heahmund to see what happened, his bodyguard's face didn't betray anything.

There was definitely something that had just happened while Ivar was distracted but neither of them seemed inclined to explain themselves, so a confused CEO kept preparing himself for the meeting. _Strange._

Ivar had never noticed actual hostility between Freydis and Heahmund, and it was his job to notice those kind of things, but there was undoubtedly something here.

Heahmund disappeared during the actual meeting, which was his usual MO. He worked outside the usual team of protection so no one would know his location, and shoot anyone threatening from very far away. It was like having a very grumpy guardian angel.

The meeting ended with satisfied clients who didn't realize how Ivar could anticipate their every needs because he knew everything about them. His father had built Jormungand, it was now Ivar's job to make it better, to make it his.

Freydis approached, a hand on his arm, and make him notice something about their workforce. With the current missions on-going, the specialized teams were in short supply and they would need to form more soldiers to respond to the growing number of requests.

A red dot blinked on the table, the kind born from the laser of a riffle scope.

The rhythm was specific, obeying to an order, but Ivar took some time to recognize the Morse. Floki had taught him a long time ago, but his skills were rusty.

_STOP FLIRTING,_ the message said.

Ivar blinked.

"What is this ?" Freydis asked, on edge. She was probably trying to understand why they weren't ducking for covers, but taking her cues on Ivar.

"Bishop," Ivar simply answered as he tried and failed to hide a smile. It was official, Freydis and Heahmund did not get along.

He needed to know why. He waited until they were back to one of their safe house, and Heahmund even facilitated his enterprise by waiting in Ivar's room, cleaning his weapon.

"What is wrong between..."

"Is there anything else to do for work ?" Heahmund cut him with too much calm.

"No," Ivar checked mentally his schedule, "not until tomorrow."

Heahmund nodded, grabbed Ivar and they both fell on the bed. Ivar was about to bark something but Heahmund was faster and sealed his mouth with his lips, and the recrimination disappeared from Ivar's mind. He leaned into the kiss, a satisfied hum leaving him as he was finally into Heahmund's embrace.

Heahmund broke the kiss, too soon, and right under Ivar's jaw, and traced a line of kiss along his throat. With a tremendous effort of will, Ivar grounded himself. He would not be distracted.

"I have a question..."

Heahmund ignored him.

"About Freydis."

Heahmund bit the point between Ivar's throat and his shoulder, making him jump under the sniper. It was going to leave a mark but he didn't care. Whatever the deal was between his secretary and his bodyguard, it put Heahmund into excellent dispositions.

"I have no problem with Freydis," Heamund growled right under his ear. "She just can't read the mood and has no sense of personal space."

Ivar raised an eyebrow and tried to take support on the bed to sit up. He was trapped under Heahmund and that just wouldn't do since he needed to touch. Heahmund slammed him back on the mattress with too much force.

Any questions fled Ivar's mind, a delighted grin spreading on his lips.

Right until the door opened.

"Mr. Ragnarson, there is..." Freydis stopped abruptely.

Ivar tried to turn to glare at her. He remembered now, it wasn't the first time she would barge to tell him something, and now that he thought about it, usually every time a respite from work was possible. Funny the things he could remember when his mind was fueled by irritation.

Heahmund did not cooperate and kept kissing him. The door closed a few seconds afterwards as Freydis fled, and Ivar admitted Heahmund was right. Not out loud of course. Heahmund would have become insufferable if he heard those words.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments always make me smile. :)


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sigurd is back. And he is very, very, very oblivious.

 

It was a truth universally acknowledged, that all families were insane. No one could escape this rule, but Sigurd estimated the Ragnarsons took the cake. They had been raised on murder, on bloodlust, and in order to perpetuate a glorious legacy. Sigurd had one day left the family home and never came back, utterly tired of his family. Jormungand, the private military company created by his family didn't lack of jobs, and he had become a middle man, finding contacts, jobs, and especially others sectors to invest into.

The plan was to enjoy his life, with all his limbs and no suspicious holes in his body, until his big brother had asked him to come back.

''I lost too much of my family to be at peace with your self imposed exile.''

It had sounded convincing at the time. Somehow. Probably because of the magic big brothers could sometimes produce, and he had crossed the ocean to go to a place where he would probably be stabbed, shot, or at least pushed around. Another thing about family : they made you do dumb things.

When he arrived to the main house, he certainly didn't expect to see a stranger making himself tea in the kitchen. Tall, dark-haired, blued eyes, he saw Sigurd coming but didn't show any surprise or reaction. He was just quietly watching him, and there was something disturbing in his gaze.

It disappeared as the stranger smiled, his eyes warming up, and if Sigurd hadn't grown with Ivar, he would think he had invented it.

''My name is Heahmund Bishop.'' He had a British accent. ''Ubbe mentioned you might visit today.''

Sigurd shook the hand offered, puzzled because he had never met this man but he had managed to recognize him immediately. ''A pleasure,'' he managed to say, proving his skills as a commercial were not wasted.

Unless his brothers had undergone a massive personality change, they wouldn't allow anyone in the private quarters of the main house unless he had proven himself, and to gain Ivar's trust, it meant someone who had given Lagertha on a platter to him, or more realistically, someone who had showed an extreme loyalty to the family.

Even then, it was strange to see him so at ease in front of a Ragnarson. Most of their men never forget

Someone made as much noise as a small elephant in the stairs and Ivar appeared like the devil out of the box, his phone in hand, his crutch in the other.

''Here you are,'' his little brother smiled, showing his teeth a little too much, but wolfish smiles were usual to him. ''Ubbe just told me.''

They hugged, an old habit in the family, if only to check of the other wasn't armed. Of course, in Ivar's case, the only thing to do was to check if there was a blade in his hand and a crazy glint in his eye.

When Sigurd was certain all his blood was still in his veins, he looked at his little brother. Ivar had always been _off_. Or _more_. More dedicated, more furious, the things he liked turned into obsession, the slight against him turned into wounds.

So he wasn't surprised to see he wasn't calm. But he was relieved to see him more at peace.

''It's been too long.''

''Just long enough for you to leave your stabbing period,'' Sigurd told him. ''I still have the scar of the Christmas when Santa gave you your first knife.''

''I did no such a thing !'' Ivar said, offended. He glanced at Heahmund, who absolutely did not seem convinced, and Ivar looked even more outraged.

Heahmund must have been in Ubbe's team because he seemed too calm, too laid back to be one of Ivar's war dogs.

''By the way, where is Ubbe ?'' Sigurd asked. ''He is the one who told me to go directly to the main house.''

Ivar looked at the window and the downpour outside, each drop ringing on the glass. There was the hint of a smile on his face : ''He is here, waiting outside. He forgot I reenforced security and there are now cameras everywhere.''

''It's raining. You intend to let him wait for long?'' Sigurd asked.

''Of course.''

 _Don't expect any mercy from Ivar Ragnarson._ It could make a good new motto for Jormungand.

Heahmund sighed, and left without a word, and Ivar followed him with his eyes, not paying attention to Sigurd until he reappeared with their soaked big brother in tow. Definitely one of Ubbe's men.

''Has anyone stabbed anyone yet?'' Ubbe called.

''No, but Sigurd hasn't been here for long,'' Heahmund answered calmly.

They spontaneously moved towards the living room, Heahmund included. There was definitely something Sigurd was missing about him, but he had to dealt with every memory this house summoned first.

He had been raised here. He had spent his childhood in the giant park, exploring and pretending to meet new people and to discover new countries, lost ones full of wonders. When the weather was bad enough, the halls became his brothers and his playground, to their mother's horror as they spread chaos.

It felt emptier than before. There used to always have people there.

It wasn't a bad thing. Instead of a place where they just lived, it felt more like a home.

Sigurd smiled when they passed in front of the bow window. It was one of those room who led to outside, the glass panels making it look like a greenhouse, where a lot of people could eat no matter the weather. Someone had been cleaning weapons on the table, a riffle was still half in pieces next to an impressing collection of firearms.

''Hvitserk is still enamored with his toys ?'' Sigurd noticed fondly.

''No, Heahmund kicked him out of the armory.''

''I did not.''

It was Ivar's turn to not be convinced.

And suddenly, Sigurd understood what was going on. Why would Heahmund Bishop be allowed to stay around. Why Ivar, who liked people as far as he could throw them, even though he made a brave exception for family, accepted to have someone in his space.

Sigurd didn't know how he did it, but Ubbe had finally found a babysitter for Ivar. Heahmund's life expectancy had probably been reduced by half, and his life would end with something sharp planted in his chest, but if he managed to channel Ivar, it was worth it.

''I am just going to take care of that, quickly,'' Heahmund said before disappearing into the room full of weapons.

''Go ahead,'' his little brother simply said before following Heahmund.

Sigurd obeyed, a force of habit, before remembering he didn't have to follow his little brother's orders, and went back, if only to see Ivar actually helping someone. A sight to behold.

He got another one.

Ivar had put a hand on Heahmund's shoulder, putting his weight on him and had raised his hand. Sigurd couldn't quite see his face from where he was but they were obviously kissing.

He turned back, caught up with Ubbe, grabbed him discreetly by the arm, though the discretion was ruined by his older brother's yelp, but didn't think Heahmund and Ivar were eager to follow them right now.

''They are together ?'' he whispered as Ubbe was trying not to fall because of the abrupt stop.

''I hope you weren't expecting a girl ?''

Sigurd wasn't expecting anyone ! Hence the surprise.

''I was expecting someone sweet he could drag back to his lair and hoard him with the rest of his gold like the dragon that he is !''

Ubbe shrugged.

''He prefers snipers now.''

Sigurd just stopped, his mind trying to understand that his psycho little brother was in love, like everyone else. A smile spread naturally on his lips.

Too bad Ivar was still too dangerous to tease.

 

 

 


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ivar panics.

  


The early morning light was spreading through the half-opened window, bringing warmth but not enough light to wake up Heahmund. He had fallen asleep with his back to Ivar, an arm on his face, and was lost to the rest of the world. Ivar took it as a compliment as it meant someone, better, a fighter and a survivor, trusted him enough to completely relax himself in his presence.

Ivar hadn't managed to go back to sleep despite the early hour and was playing with Heahmund's cross, having moved it along the cord and raised it so he could access it without anything touching Heahmund and waking him up. The first time Ivar had seen this silver hand, he had been stealing it from the private jail disguised as an asylum where Heahmund and him had been imprisoned. He had noticed Heahmund was always trying to touch something missing at his neck, and he just... had wanted to do something for him.

Also, it was amusing to play with, especially with the way Heahmund tensed each time Ivar grabbed the cross...

Suddenly, the silver pendant sled on his fingers before falling on his palm.

Ivar didn't realize what had happened until he brought his hand closer, and the whole necklace followed. He grabbed the cord, not understand how a leather cord could just fail its mission and fall. Refused to understand.

His heart dropped in his chest when he saw the broken link of leather. The only reason why he didn't utter a curse which would have shocked his ancestors was because of the asleep sniper right next to him, and who needed to stay unconscious and unable to notice anything.

Ivar let the cross and the cord fell on the mattress, then he put his head on the pillow. He only had to fall asleep, Heahmund would wake up, move around, see that the cross had fallen in his sleep, and he would never need to know Ivar was involved.

Unless he asked him. Heahmund, somehow, always knew when Ivar was lying.

Always.

Ivar cursed silently.

He grabbed his phone, took a picture of the cord, while keeping an eye on Heahmund. The breathing was as deep as before, he hadn't started moving, so Ivar had some time to fix this mess.

Putting on the high end prosthesis he used to walk would have taken too long and made too much noise, so he simply crawled out of the room, and did not stop until he was two rooms away, then sent the photo and called the man of the situation.

''Are we in danger ?'' Hvitserk whined at the other end of the line.

Ivar certainly was.

''And if we're not, why are you calling me at 5 am ?''

''I need you to bring me a similar brownish leather cord to me, as quickly as you can.''

''… What ?''

Ivar controlled an urge to grab him by the collar and to shake him until he learned to follow urgent orders without hesitation, and the fact Hvitserk wasn't in the house did not help to suppress it whatsoever..

''I was playing with Heahmund's cross when the cord broke in my fingers. Now, I need you to find something to exchange it before he wakes up.''

''The cross broke when you touched it ?''

''It was the cord,'' Ivar snarled.

''I guess that answers the question : Will you burst into flames if you enter into a church ?"

''Hvitserk !''

''Fine, fine. I will break into somewhere, leave money on the counter, and bring you something before your sniper wakes up. Because it seems it's easier than simply talking to him.''

''I am so glad you understand, brother,'' Ivar said while glaring at the wall.

There were two things Heahmund never joked about : his weapons (he had an unhealthy obsession with them) and his religion. He went to church every Sunday, often prayed, and there was a bible in Ivar's second nightstand now.

Worse, Heahmund had this cross since he was twelve, and this was coming from a man who usually thought any personal belongings could be replaced. Ivar refused to risk anything on this point.

''But first,'' Hvitserk added, ''I need you to answer to one question, Ivar.''

Anything.

''When you touched the cross, did you burn your fingers ?''

Ivar hung up.

He crawled back to his room, then to his bed, while Heahmund was still blissfully still. If he had to wait, he preferred to do it alongside Heahmund, and under warm blankets.

Except the cross wasn't there anymore.

The cord was here, exactly where he had left it, but the silver pendant was gone.

Ivar did not even worry or got mad. He was simply done with this morning, and was just too exasperated to deal with this right now.

Until he saw a bracelet on Heahmund's wrist.

Ivar leaned with his full weight on Heahmund, who didn't even react as he grabbed his wrist to investigate.

''You're heavy,'' Heahmund, this traitor, told him.

''And you're awake,'' Ivar told him back.

The cross was hanged on a shoelace who had been wrapped around the wrist several times. Obviously, Heahmund didn't like to be separated from his cross even for a moment.

''Since I tend to touch it regularly, the cord tends to not last for long,'' Heahmund explained. ''I change it often, and it's even worse now that you play with it too.''

Ivar had never noticed it.

''And for how long have you been awake ?''

Heahmund took his wrist back and put it on his face to protect his eyes from the light.

''Since you touched my cross. It always make me nervous. Remind me to buy another cordon at a more reasonable hour.''

Ivar rested on him, trapping this insufferable man under him, before taking his hand again and kissing softly the palm. Heahmund tried and failed to hide his smile.

And because he was especially nice, he added : ''You don't have to get up. Hvitserk will be here soon with a replacement.''

''How kind of him.''

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Someonesomewhere, you fed the muses with your comment.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt from LilyoftheWest: Ivar with the flu.

Heahmund hadn’t been aware of the protocol of the Ragnarson family when Ivar was sick, but as the foretells of illness arrived, he had the gnawing suspicion it was a good time to take vacations on another continent. Be it the look of abject terror of Ubbe’s face when Ivar started coughing, though he insisted it was only because of dust, to Hvitserk’s perpetual wide eyes each time his little brother complained he had headaches and that light and general sounds were bothering him, Heahmund should have played it cautious and ran for his life.

But as he realized that Ivar was starting to run a fever, Heahmund, foolish man that he was, just didn’t want to be away from Ivar when he might need him.

This was a mistake.

No normal virus would have dared to attack Ivar, so he instead got some super flu that left men weak and feverish in their bed for weeks. Ivar took it as a personal insult. The illness dried what little patience he had, and turned the psychopath into a demon.

_The room was too cold… Actually, no, the covers were too hot. He wanted such food… No, it didn’t taste like usual, you must have done something wrong. Of course he could walk…. No, he didn’t fall, he was just taking a nap on the flour._

Their only saving grace was that he slept so much he was close to hibernating, which Heahmund was fully taking advantage of. If Ivar decided he wanted to go to the shooting range, which happened about every two days, Heahmund just pretended he needed to go and look for his riffle, took his sweet time, and by the time he peaked into his former bedroom, now a germ nest, Ivar was soundly asleep, looking like an angel.

It was adorable.

Though Ivar certainly didn’t need to know that.

‘’We should have left him to the wolves as soon as he was born,’’ Ubbe one day declared with melancholy during one of their brief respites.

They ate in the gardens these days, hoping that the sunlight would be enough to keep Ivar away.

‘’If we had tried, the wolves would have run for their lives,’’ Hvitserk shrugged.

‘’I don’t hate wolves enough to curse them like that.’’ Heahmund’s mind was divided between the conversation and any eventual calls from the house. He could complain as much as he wanted, but if Ivar needed anything, he would be here. ‘’Though I do remember one client or two…’’

‘’It’s because he is the last one,’’ Hvitsrk explained. ‘’He knows his big brothers will do anything he wants.’’

‘’Nah, it’s because he was spoiled by Mother. He is used to it. What do you think, Heahmund ?’’

Ivar hated to be sick, not only because this was never pleasant, but also because he hated feeling weak. He didn’t have enough strength to walk for long, even with his prosthetics. He couldn’t move much, so all this furious energy had nowhere to go. Even his sharp intellect was numbed down, which only annoyed him more. The experience was worse for him that for anyone else, and he compensated by finding things to do.

‘’Because he is a little shit,’’ Heahmund answered instead, making the two men laugh.

 

<<< 

 

Ivar woke up, annoyed without remembering why, to a quiet room, the pain in his head subdued for now but he was still a little cold. His temperature seems to keep going up and down, never living him in peace. He leaned towards Heahmund, then realized he was alone in his bed.

Which finally reminded him why he was so annoyed. His personal hot water bottle had abandonned him as soon as Ivar started coughing. Traitor. Coward.

He raised his head to see Heahmund on a chair, readind something on this tablet. He realized Ivar was awake, raised an eyebrow, and smiled, obviously happy to see him, which almost made Ivar forgiving him. Almost.

‘’Come to bed,’’ Ivar lurred.

Heahmund didn’t move.

Maybe he was too tired to understand a simple command so Ivar patted the place next to him. Here, he couldn’t make it any simpler for him.

‘’To be contaminated ? No, thank you. I like my temperature at 39 C.’’

Rage took a hold of Ivar and he threw a pillow at the traitor with the righteous intention of smashing him through the wall with it.

Instead, Heahmund lazily caught him one handed.

‘’This fever is obviously worse than I thought,’’ Heahmund mocked him.

‘’No, I was gentle with you because I am nice and you’re so fragile.’’

‘’… Of course.’’

And now, Heahmund was considerate to him. Ivar was half -horrified by it. His Heahmund was not considerate. Each time the Ragnarson pushed Heahmund, the sniper pushed back. That was the base of their whole relationship !

Though Ivar was not the kind to not use a tactical advantage.

‘’Heahmund, please. I miss you.’’

Heahmund tried to resist but they both knew by now that the battle was lost and that Ivar was the winner. Heahmund got up, grabbed a thin cover from the closet, and walked to the bed. Ivar didn’t need another blanket but had just obliterated Heahmund in their battle of wills, he was willing to make compromises.

At least until Heahmund used him to cover him from head to toes, creating a protective cocoon partly so that weakling wouldn’t be infected, but mostly to mess with Ivar.

Strong arms enlaced him.

‘’I will murder you.’’

‘’Maybe when you’re healed.’’

 

<<< 

 

Two weeks later, Ubbe found Ivar in the guest room right next to the master bedroom, scowling.

‘’How is Heahmund ?’’ he asked his little brother.

Despite all his precautions, Heahmund had caught whatever was in the air and was absolutely miserable.

Allegedly since everyone except Ivar stayed clear. Heahmund refused for anyone to see him, had made clear several times and with a choice of words that had made Ubbe hiccup that he wanted to be left alone, and he was scarier than usual.

‘’Fine enough to kick me out my own room,’’ Ivar growled but Ubbe doubted Heahmund actually locked him out.

This was going to be one hellish month.

 


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: I love you, from LadyIrina  
> But I couldn't see Ivar and Heahmund saying that too each other. They suck at feelings!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's extremely late and I probably shouldn't post it now but valar morghulis.

 

I love you.

Those three words meant nothing to them.

Those three words were said a thousand times by Heahmund. Because he cherished someone, in order to manipulate someone, because it was easier, or because he almost meant it.

Those three words were always followed by something when they were said to Ivar. There was always a demand, be it to be shielded from the wrath which was always burning within him, or it was said by fools who thought they could manipulate him.

  
  


*****

  
  


''Don't you think it's weird ?'' Sigurd asked one day. ''They don't really behave like a couple. There is no pet names, not sickening 'I love you', nothing.''

Ubbe just stared at his little brother, his mind obviously rebooting because of what he had just heard.

''… I can't even imagine it.''

Hvitserk took advantage of his older brother's consternation to steal some fries in his plate.

''If Ivar ever tried to be lovey dovey, his face would break,'' he laughed.

''And if Heahmund ever tried something like that, he would drop dead,'' Ubbe added.

Hvitserk tried to steal more fries but Ubbe was vigilant again and he slapped his brother's hand.

  
  


*****

  
  


Heahmund tried not to roll his eyes and failed. Probably because he didn't try very hard. But it was alright. It could always blame it on the fact someone had gnawed on his patience since the day he had met him in an asylum.

'That should have been a good hint about what was waiting for him.

''Take the Barrett,'' Ivar repeated.

The Barrett was a sniper riffle, and one of Heahmund's favorite weapon. But Ivar was talking about a new fancy model Hvitserk had bought before it was even on sell.

''That's what I am trying to do.''

Ivar barred his teeth : ''Take the newer, more improved model instead of the old Barrett who is one hit away from spontaneously turning into a bunch of spare parts.''

_My Lord, why did you let me follow this maniac ? Didn't I deserve at least a warning ? Where were the Four Horsemen and the immolated souls ?_

Heahmund raised an eyebrow, not amused by Ivar's tone.

''You do realize I can grab my riffle and run? Strangely, I don't think you could chase me.''

Ivar glanced at Heahmund's favorite riffle, which was behind him.

''You would have to go through me first.''

Which was the reason why they were still arguing instead of fighting. Ivar knew Heahmund didn't hesitate to fight extremely dirty. Heahmund knew that, since it was a quiet and peaceful day, Ivar had at least three knives on him and his arm strength was mindblowing.

''Listen,'' Ivar started, ''let's be reasonable...''

''Hell will froze over but go on.''

Ivar glared at him but valiantly fought the urge to tell Heahmund what he thought of his humor.

''I am not sure about what this mission of yours is about, but you took your mountain gear and it's winter, so you're probably going to bury yourself into snow and shoot people from very far away.''

''That's a possibility.''

That was exactly that.

''Trust someone who comes from Norway, cold does terrible things to metal. Your weapon could grip at the worst moment. You need something made for durability, so take the best.''

This was condescending, annoying, and if it had been anyone else than Ivar, Heahmund would have shut that down. But since he knew Ivar, he could hear what he actually wanted to say. Words weren't as important that what was behind them.

_**Stay safe. I don't want anything bad happening to you.** _

''Let's imagine for a moment that I know my job.''

''This is a great effort but I can do that for you.''

It was Heahmund's turn to hold an urge to tell him what he thought about sass.

''If we assume that I know what I am doing,'' Heahmund continued as if there was no interruption, ''maybe I want my riffle which was tested, which I know perfectly, instead of a prototype ? Especially since Hvitserk and I would be in the first to test it.''

_**Don't worry, nothing will happen.** _

Ivar relented and let him have access to his perfectly old riffle.

  
  


*****

  
  


Ivar looked up to see it was past midnight, which meant he had spent the last three hours working and he absolutely didn't see the time pass.

It didn't matter. He wasn't done.

Jormungand had accepted a retrieval mission in South Africa. Site heavily guarded, unknown field, all Ivar had was Ubbe's excellent intel. There was several ways to get in, retrieve the target, and get out. But it would depend on the team. Everyone had their strengths and weaknesses, their habits, their flaws they didn't even know they had until it made them lose or win a decisive second.

Ivar knew his men. Not on a personal level, but as a sum of their abilities and inadequacies.

It had to be the right team.

A familiar presence walked behind him and he passed his arm around Ivar. Warm. Solid.

''Go to bed. Your plans will still be there tomorrow and you will be more efficient if you can keep your eyes open.''

Ivar leaned back and closed his eyes, enjoying Heahmund's proximity. Going back to bed with Heahmund was the most tempting thing he had heard in weeks. His head was buzzing with informations and he could feel the effects on exhaustion dulling him.

But he couldn't.

''I have to finish this.''

It wasn't like he would be able to rest if he stopped working on this. It would haunt him, wherever he went.

''Are you sure ?''

Ivar nodded.

Heahmund left him alone, and Ivar brought himself back to the simulations in his head.

He didn't need it to be perfect, but optimal.

Ten minutes later, Heahmund came back into Ivar's office, and put a cup of coffee and a sandwich on the table, before wrapping a blanket on Ivar's shoulders, and it wasn't even to make fun of him. Probably.

Heahmund left as silently as he had arrived.

Ivar didn't look back but couldn't help a smile.

He had heard it loud and clear.

_**I care about you.** _

  
  


*****

  
  


I love you.

Those three words meant nothing to them, because words used too often wear out until they lost their meaning.

It's not like they needed it to understand each other.

  
  


*****

  
  


Heahmund dragged himself inside his home, hurting everywhere. A-week-long mission running around in the mountains was a delight next to ten hours in a plane.

And as soon as he saw Ivar, on the couch, a book in his hands, pain disappeared and he couldn't contain the beginning of a smile on his face. He wasn't sure he would find him at his return. Their schedules tended to be unpredictable.

''You're back,'' Ivar simply said, a smile on his face and his eyes glinting.

_**I love you.** _

Heahmund walked to him and sat right next to hos favorite maniac. He grabbed the tablet that was on the table and leaned against Ivar.

''I'm back,'' he confirmed.

_**I love you too.** _

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Comments always make me smile! Please, share your thoughts!


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